Reign Over All
by ArtKeepsMeSane
Summary: Ron is currently alone in an apartment in mid-London. He's been so frustrated with his thoughts and can't seem to find peace. As these thoughts continue to haunt him, what will happen when he's about to give in? YAOI in future chapters. RonHarry THIS STORY IS CURRENTLY ON HIATUS DUE TO GREAT LOSS OF CHAPTERS IN A COMPUTER CRASH. I WILL CONTINUE IT, BUT IT WILL TAKE TIME TO REWRITE.
1. Chapter 1

Reign of Love: The Sound of Sunrise

A Ron x Harry Fan Fiction

It was one of those bleak mornings. The bleary kind that no one looked forward to, except for Ronald Weasley; although he went by Ron.

He loved a good desolate morning; appreciated the fact that they were quite common in London, especially in mid-winter.

He had just left his house. His own house, which only he occupied. He had somehow magically talked his parents into it. (No pun intended.)

He was only seventeen at the time and his mother, Molly, deeply disapproved of it, but Ron reassured his mum that it was only temporary and that he just needed a little time to himself to clear his head of all the thoughts he'd been having, as of late.

Finally, after a week of thinking it over, Molly and Arthur agreed that it could possibly be good for him, for a boy (er, young man) of his age, anyway.

A friend of Ron's parents heard that he was looking for a part-time living space and immediately sent an owl to inform Ron that they had just the place for him.

It was a fairly nice house, in the direct center of London, with other houses on either sides of its red brick walls. Well, it was more of an apartment, but to Ron, it may as well have been a mansion. His mansion, for now.

Now, Ron was twenty and still hadn't returned to his parent's house to live. Sure, he still visited them, all the time, but he preferred to live by himself in his house/apartment/mansion.

Anyway, he grabbed his long, gray overcoat and slipped it on. He had just left his house/apartment/mansion and was heading for the park on the Northwestern side of town. Actually, it was more likely the Northwestern edge of town.

The park he was heading to had been isolated for a few years, now. A fire had broken out and destroyed an entire half of the woodland.

Although, if you walked about a mile past all of the charred forest, a beautiful meadow would emerge from the deceased remains of the burnt grounds. Only Ron knew this. And this meadow was magnificent with the spring colors of green, pink, lavender and yellow, but that was only on spring days.

Today was December 1st, so that meant that the perfectly good side of the woods looked exactly like the dead half in the front; bare and frozen.

Ron would spend the entire day in the park, as planned. He loved the park and went to it as often as he could.

Ron calculated how long it would take him to get to the park on foot. Since he was in muggle-public, he couldn't use the regular floo powder or apparratus spell without being seen by a muggle. Although, it didn't seem all that bad. Maybe the long walks would do him good.

So without further ado, he set out onto the busy streets of London. They were cluttered with street cars and double-deckers along with people bustling about on the concrete sidewalks.

It almost seemed like a blur to Ron, the people and movement all around him. It was as if they weren't even there and he was just imagining them.

Then, a thought came to Ron; why was he going to the park, anyway?

As he stood there in the streets, idling, he almost immediately remembered and thought it to be silly to even question himself when he already knew the answer.

The reason why he was going to the park was also the whole reason why he even moved into his parents' friend's house/apartment/mansion.

(Alright, enough with the h.a.m.)

For the past seven years, Ron had been attending that school for magic-wielding students with his two best friends; Hermione Granger and Harry Potter.

The three of them did everything together ever since they met. They had gone on seven ridiculously rough, gutsy and incredible adventures that made up one life-changing journey. Ron appreciated every day that he had with them. They gave him the life he had. He would never trade his friendship with them for anything else. Although, there was one thing he would give almost anything for and that was… well, that was to be with the person he cherished most; Harry.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, over his eyes. He wanted to forget that he had even thought about it. But, the thought of Harry was so compelling and forceful, that he would remain burned into Ron's sight for the entire day, if not longer.

He continued walking down the cobble-stoned streets, troubled by his sudden urge to see Harry.

He paced on down the gray streets of the city, figures whirring past him, nothing but a stream of colors.

Ron, just to make sure he was still sane, tried to make out some of the city-slickers rushing by. He saw a girl ahead of him. She was probably fourteen or fifteen years old. She wore rounded spectacles.

Ron looked away. He looked at another person. A man, this time. Probably in his mid-twenties or early thirties. He was tall and a bit lanky. He had jet-black hair.

Ron rushed past him, eyeing someone in the other direction. A little boy with emerald green eyes.

Dammit! Ron thought angrily. Would he ever have salvation from his wants?

Every time he thought of Harry, he would just so happen to see a similarity in everyone he came across. Even his older twin brothers, Fred and George, had some resemblance on their faces, whether it was the tips of their noses or the way their eyebrows were perched over their brown eyes.

It frustrated Ron to no end.

And what agitated him even more was that when he'd see himself in a mirror, there was even a slight appearance of Harry in his own face; but very little.

Forget walking, he said to himself, I'll take the street car.

He walked over to the stop at the end of the street and waited.

The bronze train-like vehicle screeched to a stop at the corner where Ron and other citizens were waiting for the transporter.

The automatic doors opened and he stepped up and dropped his change into the money box next to the driver. She smiled and nodded a 'Thank you' at him. Ron winced. She had the same curve in her lips. He quickly turned away and randomly chose a seat towards the back.

Someone was already sitting there, but politely offered the empty spot as Ron sat down.

The boy beamed at him.

"'Ello, me name's Mav'rick. What's your name?" He questioned.

Ron didn't look up. He didn't want another reminder of what he would never have. He answered,

"My name's Ron. S'pleasure to meet you, Mav'rick."

"Thanks. Me, too. So, where're you heading off to?"

"Gandiges Park."

"Gandiges Park?" Mav'rick asked, a bit surprised. "Why would you go there? S'completely destroyed."

Ron gave a weak smile. "I know. I just like something about it, even though it's practically dead."

That was another thing that was practically dead.

"Oh. Well, today's me birthday. I'm sixteen, so I'm heading off to see me girlfriend play some tennis. She's a real pro, y'know. She can serve like no other-,"

The trolley jerked to another stop. Mav'rick looked up out the window.

"Oh, sorry. I've got to go. This is me stop. It was nice talkin' to 'ya." He grinned. "Maybe we'll see each other around." He stood up and jumped off the car and started a light jog up the street and disappeared around the corner.

Ron looked on out the window as Mav'rick had done. He sighed.

"Maybe not."

The trolley jolted into movement again, awkwardly moving from side to side on its railing in the uneven road.

The streetcar continued to stop at the ends of the streets, letting passengers on and off at each one.

Finally, the trolley skidded to a halt on the street that was the edge of town. The driver turned around and smiled again.

"Excuse me, sir, but this is the last stop." She stated. "Were you planning on getting off?" She smiled at her half-joke.

Ron looked around. He was the only one on the trolley, now. He stood up and walked to the front of the car and paused before he jumped off.

"Is this the Northwestern edge of town?" He inquired. The driver looked up. "Yes, although, we've been around the Northwestern edge twice, now. We've been all around the city. That's why I was wondering where you were going." Her teeth glinted in the dim light as she yet again smiled.

"Oh. I'm very sorry. I must've not been paying attention. I'm going to Gandiges Park, just for a little time to myself."

"Okay," she nodded, "but you do know that it's burnt up, right?"

"Yes, I do, but I like it there anyway. It's quiet." Ron looked away from the driver's face. "Thank you for bringing me here." He apologized once more before stepping off the trolley and waving goodbye to the driver.

The street car lurched back to life and turned around to head back towards the center of the city.

Ron shifted his weight while looking all around him before he took off on a brisk walk.

It was only about a half-mile's worth of walking. Ron had reached the park in less than ten minutes.

Once he was at the gates of Gandiges park, he walked around to the hinge of the gate. It was broken here. He lifted up on the broken hinges and slid through with ease. Ron placed the hinges in their original place and turned around to trudge through the winter snow that blanketed over the hard ground.

The front half of the park looked the same as always; dead and beyond repair. But still, Ron liked this place.

It was quiet, but there was still life beyond this end of the park.

Wanting to get to the other side, Ron broke into a light jog. I need the exercise, anyway. Ron thought jokingly. So he kept up his half-run for a good three fourth's of a mile. The last fourth of the mile he walked, bracing himself for the ecstatic sight of a temporarily lifeless area.

Finally, he pushed his way through the thick brush that covered an opening. He stumbled out into the clearing, almost tripping over an old fallen branch.

It was just as he remembered; beautiful in every way. Even though the forest was identical with both sides, Ron was able to pick out the things that made the living side beautiful.

The trees bent towards him, making an open circle in the sky. The grass was wilted and yellow, but it would be back in a few months. The snow, though, was plentiful here and there was a thick layer laden over the ground for as far as Ron could see.

Ron slowly walked out into the middle of the clearing and let himself fall backwards. Cushioned in the snow, he closed his eyes and remembered how he'd come to love this place so much.


	2. Chapter 2

It was about three years ago, when he and Harry were seventeen years old. They had stumbled across the park when they got lost during the Christmas Holidays. They'd been walking, looking for something familiar. Something to help them get back to the port key in London that would take them back to the Burrow. He couldn't remember how they'd lost their way, except that they weren't watching their distance from town. Harry said to go into the park, that he'd figure out a way to get them back to the city soon enough, but he'd suddenly gotten over-exhausted. Said that his legs were bothering him. Ron complied quickly and threw Harry over his shoulder. Harry had complained and said that his being on Ron's back was unnecessary. Ron had refused to place him back on the ground and insisted on finding a spot to rest in the park, or something like that. Maybe find a bench to sit on.

Yet, they hadn't found one, so Ron hiked all around the park. The darkness of the night only made the place eerie. The wood was black and decrepit. It looked like it'd been on fire at some time.

Still, the two of them had had no luck. Ron's steps were beginning to slow. He was cold and tried to stay warm, but he kept walking until suddenly, he tripped over a wide branch that jutted out of the snow. He fell down a small, crooked hill and crashed through a large entanglement of rough brush and slowly rolled to a stop.

For a fleeting moment, Ron was disoriented by the suddenness of his fall. Then, as quickly as the haze had come over him, it disappeared just as fast. Frantically, Ron whirred his head around, searching for Harry. He got up and called for him, but no one answered. He was beginning to feel sick and scared, so he ran back to where he'd fell, hoping that he would find Harry there. But, he was still not found. He began to hyperventilate, now. He yelled, not knowing what else to do. He got down on his knees and anxiously felt around in the snow under the starry evening sky. Then he felt something. Something cold and wet. He pulled at it; it was somewhat heavy.

What it was, was actually the unconscious body of Harry. Oh my God, Ron thought. What he had a hold of was Harry's freezing and bloody hand. Ron panicked and looked to Harry's face for any sign that he was okay. His glasses had been misplaced. Ron could see the moonlight glinting off of the round, broken lenses about thirty feet away. He turned back and leaned down to place his ear to Harry's chest.

"Please be okay…" Ron pleaded.

At that moment, Ron heard the sound he'd been so desperate to hear. The rhythmic beating of Harry's heart.

Ron placed both his hands to Harry's face. Harry's skin was damp and white.

"Harry! Harry!" Ron yelled. "Harry!"

Then, like some prayer was miraculously answered, Harry opened his eyes.

"Uh, Ron? What just happened?" He asked. "Are you alri-" He was cut off mid- sentence as Ron lifted him up into a sitting position and enclosed him in a secure and tight embrace.

"You're okay! Oh my God, you're alive!" Ron shouted happily. He was laughing now, overjoyed. Harry was a little confused.

"Of course I'm okay, Ron. Why wouldn't I be?"

Ron stared at him in disbelief. "Harry, we fell and I couldn't find you. But when I did, I thought you were dead…The way you looked-," Ron half choked out. "I'm just happy that you are okay." He stared at Harry for a moment and Harry stared back.

Ron noticed that Harry was shivering and didn't have his coat on.

"Harry, where's your jacket?"

"I dunno…I was wearing it a minute ago."

Ron looked behind him. On the branch that he'd tripped over was Harry's jacket, torn and draped over the wet brush. Ron shrugged out of his overcoat and pulled it around Harry's shoulders.

"There," Ron said with a sense of ease in his tone. He patted Harry's shoulder and let his hand drop to his side.

"Ron, you'll freeze." Harry protested. He tried to shake the coat off, but Ron put his hand over Harry's. He looked at the nimble limb and remembered the icy, bloody fingers that he'd held onto. Ron grasped his hand and pulled it up closer so that he could see it.

"And what's happened to your hand?" Ron asked.

Harry looked down at it as well, every bit as perplexed as Ron was.

"I think I might've caught it on a thorn or something when we fell through the bushes." He turned his hand over, inspecting it. "It doesn't hurt at all, really."

Ron smiled. "Well good…I don't want it to hurt."

Harry gave a half-smile, not really understanding what Ron had meant by that.

Ron then clasped Harry's shoulder, securing the overcoat to him.

He eyed Harry warningly. "Don't even think about taking this coat off." He said seriously. It made Harry stutter.

"F-Fine…"

Ron smiled. "I'm just kidding, Harry. But really, don't take it off. I'll do just fine. Besides, I'm too relieved to freeze-over." He looked down for a few moments, pondering something. He then looked back up at Harry, staring at him for a few minutes. Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably. His eyes wandered in different directions, trying to avoid Ron's gaze. Harry cleared his throat a bit nervously.

"Yeah um, I think we should go now, Ron. Everyone will be worrying where we've gone…" His voice trailed off on the last sentence, making his words barely audible. He moved to get up, but as he did, Ron grabbed his wrist, which made him fall backwards into the snow. Specs of the white substance flew upward from the whoosh of movement and floated back down onto Harry's face and into his black hair. He stayed absolutely still as he lay there awkwardly in the snow. Ron was above him now, hovering over his body. He brought his knees up to place them on either side of Harry's hips. A strange twisting sensation happened in Harry's stomach, instantly making him feel sick. He was scared, now. His heart reacted to the sudden kick of anxiety. It beat frantically against his ribcage. Ron leaned onto him. Harry's breathing quickened as Ron got closer to him. He pushed his head back into the snow and turned his face away from Ron as much as possible.

"Ron, stop it…" He struggled to bring to a whisper. His brows furrowed as his useless attempts to escape failed. He pushed his hands against Ron's chest, trying to get him to halt. He whimpered, knowing that he couldn't stop Ron and that he was going to have to face it.

Ron took Harry's wrists and pulled them away from his chest to hold them on the ground. He smiled a kind smile and said,

"It's alright, Harry. I'm not going to hurt you." He freed one of Harry's hands and used his own free hand to turn Harry's face toward his.

"Ron… please." He begged.

Ron put his hand to Harry's jaw and gently pulled down. Harry fought to keep his mouth closed, but Ron's thumb tugged at his lower lip. He tried his best, but couldn't compete with Ron's unfamiliar strength. Ron succeeded in unlocking Harry's jaw and steadily leaned in to do what Harry was fearing most. Harry squirmed beneath Ron's body and stared wide-eyed into Ron's face. It was coming and he knew it. Ron shifted down onto Harry as he still got closer. They were almost touching. Finally, he pressed his lips to Harry's in an open-mouthed kiss.

Harry did not resist, but widened his eyes and trembled in defeat.

Ron continually kissed Harry fully and passionately. He then let go of Harry's wrists to cup his face with both of his hands. Ron tilted his head to reach farther into Harry's mouth. And Harry, still unmoving, let Ron do this to him without a word. He was just waiting for it to be over. He didn't know how long it would last. Harry wished that he were asleep and didn't have to be put through this. Yet, he would not repel Ron. No, that would dishearten him. So Harry laid there and didn't prevent Ron from doing what he would with him.

Ron moved his hands down to the base of Harry's throat and pressed his thumb into the curve of his collarbone. The slow glide of his fingertips over his friend's skin sent a violent shudder of bliss throughout his entire body. Ron immediately moved to his chest and began to undo Harry's button-up shirt. He let go of the garment and it fluttered to Harry's sides. Ron brought up his hands and gently placed them onto Harry's bare chest.

Harry gasped as the cold sensation stole his breath. Ron pulled away from the kiss and looked at Harry. A glassy gaze was in Harry's eyes. It made Ron want to touch Harry even more.

Harry, while he could, tried to speak, but it came out in a dry whisper.

"Please…"

Ron took Harry and seized him. He wrapped his arms around the middle of Harry's back and pulled him upward, making Harry arch his body. Ron used his feet to pry off Harry's shoes and kicked them away. As Ron moved onto Harry, he used his free hand by grabbing Harry's pants and unzipped them. He tugged them off and let them fall to the ground. Ron once again sealed his mouth shut by intensely kissing Harry. He took hold of Harry's legs and pulled them up over his shoulders and began to undo his own pants.

Harry was frightened now. He didn't know Ron would go this far. He screamed into the kiss, but it was muted within his throat. So he clasped Ron's shirt and pulled on it. Ron didn't seem to notice. Harry thought that all hope was lost now. When he walked out of here, he would never be the same, and his friendship with Ron would most likely be tattered. He didn't want this. He never had. But he had always loved Ron, with all his heart, but not in this way. Not yet.

The air in Harry's lungs hitched and his body shook with cries that would not sound.

Heavy tears formed in the edges of his eyes and spilt over into his hair. Even though he was crying, it was completely silent.

Ron, who had not known what was happening, looked up to kiss Harry on the forehead and saw what would devastate him the most. Harry, shuddering with what he knew was destroyed trust. What horrified Ron even more was that Harry was crying.

"No. No…" He said, not fully knowing what he had just done.

Now that Ron was no longer halting Harry's cries, they were now let out in choked-off sobs and coughs. Ron stared at Harry in disbelief as his face twisted in pain. He was disgusted with himself.

Harry was still lying in the cold snow, in the dark, in his underclothes and Ron's coat. Harry still couldn't see properly, because his glasses were never retrieved from their place on the ground. He coughed with frame-racking force and shivered vehemently.

Ron placed his hands under Harry and slowly lifted him up out of the snow and into a fierce embrace. Large tears also welled up in Ron's eyes in anger that was directed towards himself.

"I'm so very sorry, Harry! I'm sorry!" He half shouted. The tears in his eyes overflowed and streaked down his face continually. He rocked Harry back and forth, trying to comfort him.

Harry's face was buried into Ron's chest. He was taking short and shallow breaths, not enough to properly breathe. Ron pulled Harry out in front of him and wiped away the tears on his face, even though they continued to fall.

"I know you'll never forgive me for this, but please… don't hate me." He beseeched. Harry half-gaped at him.

"Wh-What?" He inquired. "What? I could never… I could never." He slowly shook his head.

"You could never what?" Ron urged.

"I could never do that to you…" Harry murmured. He grabbed a fist full of Ron's shirt, still shaking his head.

This confused Ron.

"Harry."

"I could never hate you! Never! I love you too much!" Harry hadn't wanted to say that aloud. Yet, being under duress, he had.

Ron stared, stunned.

"You love me?" He asked.

Harry regained some control of himself.

"I-I'm sorry, Ron. Please forget it."

Ron crawled forward, towards Harry, watching him.

"You love me? Even after what I'd just done to you? How can I forget you said that?"

Harry fell on his back and tried to get up, but Ron was already over him, once more. Harry pushed in the snow with his bare feet, trying to get away.

"Harry, answer me." Ron implored.

Harry looked away, casting his eyes down, looking at the snow, but not seeing it.

"O-Of course I love you, Ron. I always have."

"Then why did you act as if you didn't?"

"Because I was scared!" Harry yelled. "I was scared, Ron! I'm only seventeen and I… and I was afraid of what would happen to us if… If we…" Harry couldn't finish his explanation. It hurt his already-breaking heart.

Ron closed his eyes and sighed. He touched Harry's face with his hand and pulled it back to face him. Then, putting his forehead to Harry's, he said,

"I love you, too, Harry. I'm sorry that I scared you. But, if you say that you love me the way you do, then someday, I may kiss you again. Just like this." And he pressed his lips to Harry's. Closed, not open this time. Just a kiss on the lips. He caressed Harry's skin with his fingers and kissed him on the jaw.

He pulled away with a saddened expression. Ron took out his beige wand from his back pocket and whispered something.

"Goodnight, Harry." He said and they disappeared.

And that was the last time he had seen Harry.


	3. Chapter 3

Ron opened his eyes. The large circle of sky engulfed his eyesight as he stared at the ashen atmosphere, existing in his own timeless world.

Maybe the reason why he had come here wasn't because he had liked this place, but maybe because he had hated it.

Ron slowly sat up and stood on the ice field. There was no need to rush, after all. Really, what was there to hurry for?

He trudged through the white stuff for a while, heading into the deeper part of the forest. It was probably a few hours worth of walking. Ron hadn't known; he wasn't keeping track of time, anyway.

After a short period of time, Ron turned off the winding trail and ducked behind the trees so that he was not able to be seen. He didn't know who would see him, though. He was here alone, today.

He moved from side to side, around the old trees and spotted trodden steps in the white snow. Most likely, an animal had passed through here earlier. Ignoring the prints in the snow, Ron stopped after a few hundred yards. There was a large, pale blue circle on the ground out in front of him. It was a massive frozen pond. Ice was thrown about the entire surface like a second skin.

Ron had almost not seen it, because it was closely hidden by the bent and broken trees.

He stepped forward, wanting to get a closer look at it. He hadn't known this was here. He'd never seen it. Not once. He jumped over a bulky tree stump and hit the forest floor with a light thud. He looked up at it and saw just how big it was.

It was probably the size of a football field and a half. A vast area of hardened water. He scanned his eyes over it. It was, put simply, marvelous! He honestly hadn't seen anything like it. In the faint and clouded over sunlight, the ice glittered white and made Ron halt in his movements to stare upon it. The radiance of its beauty put him in a state of calmness. It made him want to close his eyes and walk to its edge and lie upon it.

And so he began to. He moved one foot after the other, took a deep breath and shut his eyes. The walkway was clear from here to the edge of the pond, so Ron confidently walked blindly towards the frozen surface and opened his eyes once he reached the edge.

Ron hesitated, testing the ice before he shuffled onto it. The layer seemed thick enough. So he placed his left foot on the ice and began to slowly walk to the center of the arena. Once he reached it, he made a steady movement and knelt on the cold, glass-like pool of solid substance.

After he succeeded in this, he began to carefully lie back onto the crystallized area. His back flattened against the ice and his hair splayed out upon it.

It was cold, yes, but Ron didn't mind it. He looked up at the sky. It was suddenly a deep gray. It hadn't been like that a while ago. It was just a bit cloudy. Now the sky was almost black.

Ron looked at his watch. It was only 1:46 p.m. So he'd been here for a little over five hours. Where had the time gone?

It wasn't the first time that time had flown by him. He just didn't pay attention to the hour and how long he spent time on things.

Ron sighed. He was going to waste his life away. Sure, he was only twenty, but if he continued on as the way he was, his hold on the world would loosen and he'd never know what could have been.

Ron thought about that. What could've been… What could have been if he were with Harry right now. If he were touching him, loving him, holding him the way he had done three years ago.

A dull pain formed in Ron's forehead. Ron furrowed his brows and squeezed his eyes shut. Though, it wasn't the only pain he was feeling. A greater hurt burned at his chest, in his heart. The love for his friend was causing the blood-pumping organ to erode away. His welling emotions crumbling to soft ashes at the bottom of his heart. Ron wished so hard that he would be able to be with him forever. But, in his soul, he knew the damaging truth;

He was never going to see him again.

There was a cracking sound. Ron's eyes snapped open and he stared upwards. He was falling backwards, at a slant. Then, when a wet feeling surged through his clothes, he knew what he had just heard.

The ice he was laying on had begun to crack and break apart. The shelves of ice shifted in all directions and away from each other. With one final movement, the ice sheets pushed from themselves and Ron fell through the ice to plunge into the freezing water.

It shocked him, the water did. He held his breath as the cold water stung at his body like needles that covered him. He opened his eyes, trying to look around him and for the way out of the large pond. There were bubbles surrounding him from his unexpected dive. The spheres of air floated away and out of Ron's eyesight. Some morphed into the water and became invisible.

Ron started to swim upwards with the bubbles, but just as he was about to reach the top of the water, something far off caught his eye.

He stopped paddling and spun around to look straight at the thing. Ron narrowed his eyes. It was hard to see it since the water blurred the shape. There was a pang in Ron's chest. He needed air, but he was compelled to figure out what that thing was down towards the bottom on the pond. Whatever it was, was drawing him nearer to it.

The sharp stab in his lungs warned him and he quickly turned back to claim oxygen for his body.

He surfaced and took large gulps of air and then dived back into the ice water. He found the form and swam down, wanting to see it clearly. Once he had gotten down there, he found that more than half of the figure was covered by water life and loose greenery. He reached out to touch the visible part of it. It was soft, but cold. That's odd… Ron thought. He moved a part of the water grass from it and tugged at the rounded shape.

Ron's air flooded from his mouth in a silent scream. A pale arm floated from the long grass. He was frightened now. The rest of the water plant glided away from the figure and revealed the true form.

In shocking contrast to the deep blue-black water was the slender, nude body of a ghostly-white young man. His arms were out in front of himself, like he was grasping for something. His legs were slightly bent and his eyes were closed in an emotionless look that was painted on his cold, but beautiful face. The lips were blue, due to the arctic-cold water and small clear bubbles appeared from his mouth and floated upwards. Four inches of black hair on his thrown-back head swiveled in the water.

Ron looked the body over. It was inconceivably beautiful in every way. His figure was absolutely perfect. Ron realized what he had grabbed onto had actually been the man's shoulder.

He looked back up at the man's face. He was strangely odd in some way, but Ron couldn't pick it out. He ignored his confusion and grabbed the man's wrists and pulled him out of the weeds and up with him to the surface.

They emerged from the water as Ron sucked in a large amount of air, catching his breath. He shifted the man onto his back and swam for the edge of the water. He reached it and toppled onto the snowy ground and pulled the man out with him. Even in the snow, the man was astonishingly white.

Ron got out of his heavy, wet overcoat and rubbed his hands together to warm them. He placed his hands upon the man's chest and shoved his weight into his palms. Ron didn't know how long this person had been in the water, but it was long enough that he had passed out.

Ron made a fist and put it to the man's heart and placed his other hand over his fist and pushed with a great force. He had to get this guy breathing. He had to.

As he pounded on the person's chest with his hands, he watched the man's face, still confused by the unknown familiarity of the man.

Nothing was working. Ron still hadn't revived him, so he quit beating on his chest and instead opened the man's mouth to perform CPR on him. He breathed a great gust of air into the man's chest and pressed a hand to his stomach and pushed, trying to force the fluid out of his lungs. After a few minutes, Ron was beginning to become disheartened. There wasn't any hope in this. He was already gone.

But Ron still hadn't wanted to give up. He put more force into his breathing and pulled back as water filled his mouth. He spit the bitter water upon the ground and turned his head back to the man whose chest jolted as he coughed violently.

Ron smiled a great smile. He had done it. He'd saved this man. He would live.

Water spluttered from the man's mouth and dripped onto the snow, leaving gray spots. He was taking short and shallow breaths, not enough to properly breathe. He gasped for air and choked as water still flowed from his mouth.

Ron turned around and grabbed his drenched coat and slung it over the shoulders of the man. He shivered and goose flesh covered his skin. Ron spoke,

"I'm sorry it's cold, but it's better then nothing."

The man opened his eyes as he looked up. They were a light shade of green.

Ron stared. This wasn't happening. THIS WASN'T HAPPENING! The thoughts screamed in Ron's head. Ron's wide eyes looked the man over. The white skin, the perfect body, the black hair, the green eyes and- Ron put his hand to the man's forehead and brushed aside the wet strands of hair.

-and the faded scar!

Ron, even though what he was feeling was some serious déjà vu, smiled brilliantly at the freezing man. He lurched forward and devoured the man in his arms.

"It's good to see you again… Harry." Ron whispered into his ear.

It was true. This man whom Ron had rescued from the hardened pond was actually Harry Potter, frozen and delirious.

Ron was euphoric. This was unexplainable. His finding of Harry in the water was definitely unexplainable. And what puzzled him even more was how Harry had gotten there, anyway. Why was he there? How long had he been in the water? Why didn't he recognize him from the very start? All of this Ron did not know, but he would be asking Harry later. Nevertheless, Harry was coming home with him.

Ron, as he had done three years ago, took out his beige-colored wand and whispered a spell. Yet, not only did Harry disappear, but so did Ron. Both were gone within a second and apparated.

They were thrown upon the wooden floor of Ron's house with a loud thump and tumbled several times before they stopped. Ron grumbled something sourly. He had yet to master landing that spell.

He clumsily stood up to grab Harry by the waist and under his knees so that he could carry him around the corner and down the hall to the bathroom. He turned the knob to the door and pushed it open with his back and slammed it shut with his wet shoe. He set Harry on the rug next to the bathtub and reached over him to slide the rickety shower door open. Once he did that, he kicked off his shoes and socks and knocked them over to the corner of the room. He then shrugged out of his green long-sleeve shirt and black pants. Although, he left his boxers on.

Ron picked Harry up off the floor and stepped into the shower and laid Harry down in the bottom of the tub. He noticed that his body was freezing to the touch. He shoved the opaque shower door shut and bent down next to Harry.

"It's okay, Harry," Ron whispered. "you'll be warm in a minute."

And Ron turned the dial on the wall of the shower from off to warm.

Fresh water sprinkled from the nozzle above the two men and poured onto each of them. The difference in temperature made Harry gasp. His eyelids fluttered in relief as relaxing warm water washed over him.

Ron smiled happily and put his arms around Harry. He noticed that, surprisingly, he was almost twice as big as Harry. Compared to himself, Harry was small. Ron's arms overlapped themselves when he reached around him.

He moved a hand up to cover Harry's face and comfort him. Ron leaned back with Harry until his back touched the wall. He inclined his head down to his neck and kissed him just over the jugular.

"Relax, Harry. Rest. Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake."

Harry's breathing slowed and soon, he was asleep.

Ron let Harry stay in the shower for a good while before he decided to put him to bed. He turned off the water and reopened the stubborn shower door and stepped out with Harry held safely in his arms. He walked out of the bathroom and back into the hall and turned to go up the stairs. Step after step, he made his way up the staircase and turned to the left, where his bedroom was.

He entered his dark bedroom and walked over to his bed to lay Harry upon its edge. Ron turned to his mahogany dresser and opened its drawers, looking for some extra clothes that Harry could wear.

It wasn't successful. All of his clothing was much too large for Harry. Ron sighed and randomly grabbed a white long-sleeve shirt that was simply enormous and a pair of red boxers that had shrunken in the dryer and were too small for himself. He spun around and slipped the boxers onto Harry, looking away while he did this, respecting Harry.

After that, Ron lifted Harry into a sitting position and slipped the shirt on. He fastened the buttons and patted Harry on the back.

Ron laid him on the soft bed and began to think to himself.

What if this was a dream? What if this wasn't real? What would happen when he woke up? Would Harry still be here? Was he even here right now? Because if he wasn't, he would break…

Ron broke away from his doubts to change into a dry pair of black boxers and lied down on the bed himself, next to Harry. He lay on his side and watched Harry as his chest rose and fell in comfortable sleep. He looked so peaceful to Ron. His damp hair was spread out over the pillow beneath his head. The slight cloud of red that covered Harry's face, which was most likely from being in the shower too long, made him look as though he were blushing. And his magnificent body. His small, slender, pale, delicate body. Possibly the most extravagant distraction in the world. The skin was so smooth, so soft and ridiculously white that if someone were to see Harry, they'd believe he were wearing paint over his skin.

Ron smiled to himself, for he knew a truth in his head that this couldn't be a lie. What he was seeing, feeling, and sensing had to be real. Maybe he had really found and saved Harry from the cold waters. Maybe he had been in the shower with him and warmed his frozen skin and taken him to his own bed to sleep tonight.

Maybe, this was where he could finally be truly happy with that whom he loved with all his heart.

Ron pulled the thick quilt that was folded at the end of the bed over Harry and himself and scooted closer to Harry and put his hands around his waist. He pulled him closer to himself and shut his eyes and turned out the lights. Soon, his heart had slowed to a content rate and was asleep.

It was at this that Ron was, in all honesty, pleased and glad.


End file.
